Advance to Boardwalk
by Miss Jazz
Summary: Grissom takes a chance and Sara wins much more than a game. GSR.


**Advance To Boardwalk**

By Miss Jazz

**Category:** Humour/Romance, GSR

**Spoilers:** A small reference to "Suckers."

**Summary:** Grissom takes a chance and Sara wins much more than a game. GSR.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own CSI or Monopoly. I'm writing for fun.

**Author's Note:** This is my silly, fluffy CSI fanfiction anniversary story! (I like to celebrate anything and everything!) A year ago today, I posted my first CSI story and I realized that I really didn't get to write as much as I would have liked to in 2005. The stories I did manage to post, however, were a lot of fun to write, and the reviews have been so encouraging! Thanks for reading and for all your support this year! Happy New Year everyone!

* * *

"Ten, ten, ten, ten, ten, ten..." 

Greg Sanders squeezed the dice in his hands, closing his eyes in prayer. If he rolled a ten–or two fives, to be specific–then he would be hauling in some much-needed dough. With only a hundred dollars to his name and a long streak of losses wounding his pride, Greg was counting on luck to pull him through. And aside from the fact that there were no cases to be solved and the CSIs had absolutely nothing to do but play board games, luck did not seem to be on his side today.

"Ten, ten, ten, ten, ten, ten..."

"Dammit, Greggo. Will you please just _roll,_" Nick muttered, his fingertips tapping impatiently on the table. "The rest of us would like our turns at some point."

Scowling, Greg released the dice, sending them flying across the board. When they came to a stop, he let out a small but piercing shriek. "Nine! You've gotta be kidding me!" He glared at the black dots on the dice.

"Guess that means no Free Parking for you," Sara chuckled, watching as Greg reluctantly moved his horse-and-cowboy playing piece to New York Avenue. "How much do you have left? A hundred?"

"Not anymore." With a sigh, Greg checked the rent for New York and then forked over a small stack of bills to Warrick, who was half-asleep. "Here, man. Just take it quickly. It'll make it easier."

"What? Oh–right," Warrick yawned, taking the fake cash."You know–if you hadn't freaked out, I wouldn't have even noticed you were on my property. You would've gotten away with it."

Nick nodded to Greg. "Yeah, that's too bad, buddy. 'Rick's been asleep for the last hour."

"If I owned nothing but Vermont and New York, I would be too," spoke up Catherine.

"Nothing wrong with Vermont and New York," said Warrick.

"Or Free Parking," huffed Greg. "You're hogging all the Free Parking love! That's the only reason you're still in this game!"

"What can I say? I'm a lucky guy."

"Yeah, well, must be nice. The dice hate me."

Sara, the proud owner of the expensive Boardwalk and Park Place, grinned. "I can give you a loan, Greg," she offered. "But I'm not sure it'll help." She gestured toward the little red hotels on her property. "You know you're gonna land here eventually. And you probably won't leave."

The youngest CSI rolled his eyes. "Like I said, the dice hate me."

Catherine pushed herself away from the table, clearing her throat. "Ok, that's it, Greg. I've had it with your complaining. I'm heading out."

Realizing that Catherine was more amused than frustrated, Nick checked his watch. Their shift was finally over. "You making breakfast for Lindsey?"

"Yeah. Pancakes. I promised her."

"Well then it's a good day for both Lindsey and I," Greg said, looking very pleased. "Because this means that all the railroads are now up for grabs!"

"Don't celebrate–you don't even have enough money to buy _one _of them," Nick pointed out.

"I will when I pass 'Go.'"

"_If_ you pass 'Go.' That'll only happen if you make it past Stokesville and Sidleland."

"I hear the hotels are nice there," added Sara.

Greg eyed the red, green and blue areas of the board warily. 'Stokesville' consisted of Pacific, Pennsylvania and North Carolina Avenues and 'Sidleland' was situated around Nick's property. Sara had managed to acquire not only Boardwalk and Park Place, but also the red section of the board. Kentucky, Illinois and Indiana were right around the corner from Greg's poor horse-and-cowboy, and he knew that the chances of making it through with any money at all were slim. He had already mortgaged all his property after landing on Boardwalk not once, but _twice._

"You must really like it here on the Boardwalk," Sara had teased him, the second time. "You're coming to visit often...and you're more than welcome to keep that up. If you have the money for your five star accommodations, that is."

Greg had given her a stubborn look, just like the one he was giving everyone now. "I'll make it," he declared. "And I'll get myself a railroad. And... and then I'll make it through another few rounds. A Sanders never gives up."

"I admire your determination," Catherine said, as she pulled her coat up off the break room couch. "But don't get ahead of yourself."

"What? Why?"

"Well...I'm still a railroad tycoon." With a sly smile, Catherine gestured towards the door, where an unamused Gil Grissom stood. "My replacement is here."

"Uh, your replacement doesn't look too pleased, Cath," mumbled Greg. "I think you should just sell back the railroads...or donate them to a good cause–perhaps the 'Greg needs to win this for the sake of his sanity' fund?"

Warrick's eyes shot open. "No donating! That's cheating."

"Be quiet, fellow loser."

"Hey. Guys," Catherine held up one hand. "I'm keeping the railroads. Well, Grissom is, anyway. He's more than happy to be the substitute railroad tycoon. Tell them, Gil."

Grissom didn't answer. Instead, he squinted and silently analyzed the scene in front of him. "I don't remember approving this activity," he said, his jaw twitching. "You could have used the rest of the shift more constructively."

"Griss, there was nothing left to do," protested Nick. "Honestly."

"We started to polish the stainless in the DNA lab," Sara told her supervisor.

Grissom pursed his lips. "Started?"

Greg nodded. "Hodges kicked us out. He said there was a special cleaning technique that was introduced after I went into the field, but..."

"But we think he just wanted the CD player for himself," laughed Nick. "To listen to his _Show Tunes._"

Grissom raised an eyebrow. "There's nothing wrong with Show Tunes."

Sara gave him a soft smile. "Oh right–you're a Gilbert & Sullivan fan, aren't you? The Mikado..."

"It's a classic," Grissom replied simply. He was pleased and not at all surprised that Sara remembered that little fact. He glanced over at her and he realized that his team was right–there _was_ nothing left to do. The evidence was right there in front of him; if Sara Sidle wasn't working, then there obviously was no work to be done. She would choose work over Monopoly any day.

"So..." Greg trailed off. "No offense, but why _are_ you here, Grissom?"

Catherine grabbed her purse. "I think he was getting to that. Remember, Gil?"

Grissom licked his lips and he slowly slid into Catherine's seat. "I, uh, I forgot to send in some paperwork," he admitted. "No one knew about this, but Cath was going to be considered for a raise... and I was supposed to put in a report."

"Ouch," mumbled Warrick.

"Yes. Ouch, indeed." Grissom sighed. "It was a mistake. I do make mistakes sometimes."

Catherine rolled her eyes."What he's trying to say is that he got a little too wrapped up at the Body Farm, and now he owes me, big time. I have to wait until the next Director's meeting to be considered again."

"So did you get a 'get your ass in here and win this for me' page, Griss?" asked Nick.

"Unfortunately."

Catherine patted Grissom's shoulder. "This is the smallest of all the small favours I'm going to ask for."

Warrick was awake now. "You're making him play monopoly as punishment?"

"I'm making him play because he needs to take a break from work that doesn't even exist right now and do something fun. And yes, to him, that's a punishment."

"Okay, okay," Grissom grumbled. "Just...drop it. Nobody's making me do anything." He turned to Catherine, who had a satisfied grin on her face. "Don't push it, Cath. I'll finish your game, just go...get home to Lindsey."

"Win for me and I'll go easier on you. We all put our respect into the pot; winner takes all."

"Anything else?"

"No, that should do it." She headed over to the door, stopping to add, "Oh...Greg?"

"Yeah?"

"Lose like a man, will ya?"

"Bye Catherine!" Greg replied, through gritted teeth.

"Bye. Have fun guys."

And with that, she disappeared.

Grissom shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortable. "Okay–who's turn?"

"Mine," announced Nick. Without delay, he rolled the dice and then moved his cannon piece six spaces, landing on Luxury Tax. "At least it wasn't Sidleland," he mumbled to himself, counting out the money he now owed.

Grissom scanned the board. "Sidleland?"

"Nickname for Sara's property," explained a pouting Greg. "She's dominating this game. She has more property and more dough than anyone...and I've suffered because of it."

"Me too," said Warrick. "But unlike Greggo, I've already accepted my defeat. _Like a man._"

Grissom looked over at Sara with secret pride. "Impressive," he told her quietly, gently. "Does, uh, does this mean the game will be over soon?"

Sara gave him another small smile and she shrugged, reaching for the dice. Wordlessly, she rolled an eight and moved her silver top hat to Illinois. Since she owned it, she quickly passed the dice to Warrick. "Your turn."

Warrick laughed. "Is it bad that I'm hoping for jail?"

"No, I'm hoping for jail too," Greg replied. "I can afford to get myself out of _there._"

Warrick took his turn and somehow, he ended up on Vermont. "Woooo, got lucky on that one. I get to keep my money," he said. Then, he nodded to his supervisor. "Alright Griss, let's see what you've got."

Grissom rolled and then realized that he had no idea where he was on the board. "Am I the dog?" he asked. "Because if I'm the dog, then I think I'm now on 'Go.'"

"Yes, you're the dog, and yes, you are now on 'Go,'" answered Nick. He put on his official 'banker' voice. "And here's your two hundred dollars, sir. Thank-you for passing through and please come again."

"Okay..." Grissom took the money and then checked his property cards. "So I own all the railroads and the light yellow and light purple sections?"

Nick nodded. "On your next turn, I would be more than happy to discuss the purchase of additional houses for your residential property. Or perhaps you'd be interested in a trade? I can arrange a negotiation–"

"Cut it out, Nick."

"I...I can do that too."

"Thank-you."

"No problem. Ok Greggo. You're up."

With crossed fingers, Greg took his turn, which–not surprisingly–ended in him being unceremoniously knocked out of the game. "I will never admit defeat," he had announced, only seconds before landing on Indiana. "I won't admit defeat until my last dollar is ripped from my hand!"

"I thought we agreed on no violence this time," Warrick had reminded him.

"I don't remember that. Oh my God...Indiana!"

Sara had grinned. "In case your shock is somehow clouding your vision, I have a hotel on there. Should I rip those bills out of your hand, Greggo, or would you like to pass them to me?"

"I'll never live this down."

Greg was now on the couch, muttering something between sips of coffee. He was busy folding paper into random shapes–which could have been called Origami, had he been making a decent attempt. Warrick was on the couch too, nodding off. He'd been booted shortly after Greg, when he landed on Grissom's railroads a few too many times.

And now, after a half an hour of mortgaging and forking over property, it was Nick's turn to take the plunge...

"Alright. Apparently I'm no match for either of you," Nick declared, as he came to a stop on Park Place. "Here's the last of my money, Sar. Don't spend it all in one place."

"I won't." She took it, remaining humble. "Thanks. Good job, Nick."

Nick wandered over to the couch and Greg immediately dropped his limp, folded paper and shoved an invisible microphone into his friend's face. "Third place! Congratulations Nicky Stokes! How does it feel?"

Nick shrugged. "Like I got my ass kicked."

"Well, you sure played a good game. And you were an excellent banker. I hear Grissom's now in charge of the bank...and he's got nothing on you!"

"Why thank-you, Greg...but you can stop sucking up. I believe this is your fifth, no wait, _sixth_ straight loss?"

Greg grimaced. "I know."

Back at the table, Sara was trying to block out Greg's voice and concentrate on the board. Stokesville was now a part of Sidleland, and Grissomland wasn't nearly as big. Sara owned almost three quarters of the board. She just had to wait until Grissom ran out of money–which was clearly going to happen in the near future–and then she could go home with bragging rights...and the memory of playing Monopoly with Grissom. _That _was something she had never even imagined...and she had imagined quite a bit.

"You made a pretty good comeback, Grissom," Sara said. "Catherine may have had property but as far as I know, she didn't have a lot of money."

Grissom looked up at her, surprised. "You sound like you're speaking from experience...and you seem to be playing _with_ experience. Do you play often?"

Sara shook her head. "I haven't played in years. I'm not really a fan of board games."

"I can relate."

"Really?" She laughed softly. "How are we the last two people in this game?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe...we wanted it the most?"

"You wanted it? Catherine practically forced you here."

"Don't forget how much Greg wanted it!" Greg called from the couch. "Greg was the biggest sore loser in the history of the game! Clearly, _he_ wanted it the most."

Sara had to agree with that. "Yeah, Greg definitely wanted it the most."

"Or at least enough to speak in the third person," mused Grissom.

Sara smiled. "It's your turn," she said, pointing at Grissom's dog. "Take him for a walk."

"Through Sidleland?"

"Yes please."

"If you insist." He rolled and he realized that he was really starting to enjoy himself. Indeed, now that he was playing alone with Sara, he found that he was actually interested in the game. "You know, a few more of these walks and that'll be it," he said, almost as if he were warning her. "Even this one might do it."

"Well as soon as we're done, then we don't have to play anymore," Sara replied, studying him quietly, curiously. "That's usually how it works."

His nose twitched. "Of course."

Sara licked her lips, wondering if there was a reason why Grissom wouldn't want this game to end. He seemed disappointed all of a sudden. He hadn't wanted to be a part of it at all, so why would he want to keep playing? It seemed odd, but then again, Grissom _was_ odd...so it was normal._ Too _normal. And way too confusing.

Sara decided to forget about it. It was safer that way. "You escaped," she noted, as Grissom moved the dog–soon to be her _lapdog_–to Chance.

Grissom nodded. "I guess I'll be rolling at least one more time."

"Yeah, I guess so. Chance is a good spot to be in. You might end up with some money."

"Or I might end up owing some."

"You don't know that," Sara told him. "You won't know until you take a chance...card."

Grissom reached for the small deck, taking the top card while processing Sara's suggestive remark. "I, uh, I think we should make a deal," he said, keeping the card hidden under his hand.

Sara gave him a blank look. "What kind of deal?"

"A 'we're the last two people left in this game' deal." He looked uncertain. "That's usually how it works, isn't it?"

She let out a laugh–a short, adorable laugh. "Um, I don't know about that one."

"Well, why not?" Grissom let out a breath. "Somehow, we _are_ the last two players, and I'd like to make a deal..."

"So you can keep your money and keep playing for a little longer?"

"Not exactly."

"Okay," Sara replied. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Um..." Grissom lowered his voice to a whisper. "Well, I was thinking more along the lines of...loser buys dinner."

Sara almost fell out of her chair. "What?"

Grissom knew that his words had left her completely shocked. He knew that because he was completely shocked too. "Um...loser buys dinner," he said again, the second proposal even softer than the first.

Sara fought for a breath. "But...but you know you're gonna lose, Grissom!" she exclaimed, her gaze full of confusion–the same confusion in Grissom's blue eyes. "And...and you didn't even want to play. The game, that is."

He tipped his head and raised his eyebrows. "Yes, I know, and...no I didn't."

"I don't understand."

"I don't either, but let's just go with it..."

"And see what happens?"

A tired groan came from the couch and Grissom and Sara looked over. "Dammit, do we have a winner yet?" grumbled Greg. "Because I need someone to give my respect to before I join Warrick in la-la land."

Sighing softly, Grissom flipped over his Chance card. "Yes, Greg," he announced, a moment later. "We have a winner."

Sara's eyes widened. "We do? But you're still on Chance!"

With a nervous but very warm smile, Grissom read aloud.

"Advance to Boardwalk."

The End


End file.
